


Always Mine

by EternalSurvivor



Series: Naruto Rare Pairs [18]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Boys Kissing, Dark Hatake Kakashi, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Reunions, no happy ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-05
Packaged: 2021-03-03 18:54:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24550402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EternalSurvivor/pseuds/EternalSurvivor
Summary: This was supposed to be Minato's day off.
Relationships: Hatake Kakashi/Namikaze Minato
Series: Naruto Rare Pairs [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1417702
Comments: 14
Kudos: 54





	Always Mine

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I originally wrote this as a birthday present for someone I admire, but plans don't always go the way we assume they will. I'm going to post it anyway. I hope someone enjoys it. <3

_ This was supposed to be his day off. _

Minato kept telling himself that, repeatedly. Even as he tucked his glasses into his suit jacket and used the apprehension of the crowd as a distraction to suit up. The lightning bolt on his golden uniform gave away his identity. 

"It's The Yellow Flash!" An onlooker bellowed. 

All eyes turned to him, mouths agape in astonishment and wonder. Minato internally sighed. He loved his job, he truly did, but days off were so rare for a superhero. 

_ Evil never rests _ was a saying he thought overused in his days as a sidekick. 

He knew better now.

And the day started so promisingly. 

Konoha City was always beautiful this time of year. Bright and sunny for early spring. A light breeze has drifted through his cracked window that morning, carrying the robins' dawn chorus on the wind. Minato enjoyed some languid stretches on his terrace, showered and dressed before heading out to his favourite coffee shop. He liked being a part of the morning monotony, of people coming and going about their business. 

A man bumped into him in the street and waved it off with a gruff, "sorry Bud." Minato couldn't help but smile. 

Normalcy and a hot cup of coffee were luxuries he didn't often get to enjoy. 

Yoshino Nara greeted him with a toothy grin. "Well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Minato's heightened hearing picked up her husband ambling about in the back. 

"Good morning, Yoshino. I trust business is going well?" 

"As good as can be expected when all the hard work falls to me," she tutted, though there was no actual animosity behind her words. For all her bluster, Yoshino and Shikaku Nara had a strong marriage. Sometimes, Minato felt a pang of envy. He wondered if he would ever find happiness like that.

Over two decades in this profession, as first a sidekick than a superhero in his own right, left little time for much of a personal life. After what happened last time, Minato wasn't sure he’d ever want to take the risk again. Falling in love meant putting more than just his heart on the line. His enemies were numerous. None would hesitate to use a precious person against him. 

Minato wouldn’t survive watching someone else get killed because of his mistake.

Not again.   
  
Never again.

"I admire your work ethic," Minato teases lightly. Yoshino and Shikaku have been casual friends of his since youth. 

"Always the charmer, Minato. You want the usual?" 

Minato beamed. "You know me so well, Yoshi." 

Yoshino rolled her eyes and got to work. Five minutes later, Minato was tucked in a plush booth towards the back of the cafe with a steaming mug of cortado cradled in his hands. Yoshino knew exactly how he liked his coffee. 

Humming softly to himself, Minato sipped his drink, savouring the rich taste and smooth texture. A bit of foam stuck to his top lip. He licked it off with a flick of tongue. 

Delicious. 

Utterly exquisite-

The sound of shattering glass and shaking mortar drove Minato from his seat, his half empty mug of cortado abandoned. Dust rolled through the cafe. People screamed, glass crunching underfoot as they scrambled back. 

Minato's heart lodged in his throat. "Yoshino! Shikaku!" 

Yoshino groaned from somewhere behind the serving counter.

A battered Ford pick-up truck smashed straight through the coffee shop's large bay window. It hung at a strange angle, engine still running and front wheels spinning uselessly. Utter chaos broke out. People screamed. Several wounded patrons lay strewn about the floor -bloody and broken. 

Minato scrambled forward to help just as the driver's door swung open-

The hero’s face paled.

-and the  _ Friend Killer  _ nimbly twisted up onto the truck's roof like he hadn't just rammed a three-ton vehicle through a building full of innocent people. 

Minato saw red. 

That’s how The Yellow Flash found himself tailing Friend Killer through Konoha City’s intricately woven back alleys on his day off.

Though they’d gone toe-to-toe several times over the last few months, the silver-haired menace always slipped through Minato’s fingers. As quick as he was, Friend Killer was just as nimble. They danced around each other like two opposing magnets, caught in an endless tug-and-pull of Good versus Evil. Over time, the usual silent disdain he felt for villains turned to frustration where Friend Killer was concerned. 

Just like every time before, they fell into their usual routine. They flipped and dodged each other's attacks, delivering glancing blows. Friend Killer parried moves few others could detect, let alone block or counter. Not for the first time, a little voice in the back of his mind told Minato his opponent was predicting his moves. It wasn’t telepathy. His headgear protected against that. 

And yet...

A foot locked over his ankle and Minato lost his footing. A startlingly slender hand caught his shoulder and the world flipped around him. With a grunt, his back hit the brick wall of an abandoned store. 

“You’re distracted, that’s not like you.” Friend Killer gripped his wrists, effectively pinning his arms above his head. A thick thigh pressed between his legs, stilling his struggles. “Where’s your head?”   
  
Minato’s eyes narrow in silent defiance, even as his breathing comes ragged from the chase and subsequent fight. How dare this infuriating villain assume to know him? He jerked at the tight hold keeping his captive. All he got for his effort was a sharp throb through his left shoulder. He took a particularly hard blow there during their skirmish. There would be severe bruising in the morning. 

Friend Killer fared no better from the drawn-out battle. Minato took grim satisfaction in that. Blood spotted the right hip of his uniform red from where one of his throwing knives sliced through pale skin. 

The man’s optic visor glinted red over his left eye. An amused hum rumbled in his throat. “Mah, cat got your tongue, Sensei?”

Minato froze. His blue eyes widened in disbelief. “No,” he denied, voice barely above a whisper. Only one person ever called him that and they died six years ago. He watched life drain from the eyes of his former sidekick and Minato vowed  _ never again. _ “It can’t be.”

_ He’s dead. _

The relationship should’ve never happened for so many reasons. A full decade separated them. His first and only sidekick was barely fifteen when he first came under Minato’s mentorship. Eager, haunted, and with a large chip on his shoulder, the boy was determined to make a name for himself outside the shadow his disgraced, dead father cast. 

For three years Minato guided him before their relationship took a more intimate turn. He tried to instill his own values into the boy. Teamwork, camaraderie, that the official Hero Conduct Regulations weren’t the be-all-end-all standard for heroic performance. 

They clashed often, ideologies as conflicted as they were. 

But oh, how Minato had loved him. 

Grey eyes beneath white lashes, silver hair that shone like moonlight, pale skin that went on for days. His young love seemed ethereal, almost eternal, like a dream.

A fragile, fleeting dream that slipped right through Minato’s fingers. 

Friend Killer dragged down his mask, yanked off his visor and _Kakashi Hatake_ leaned into him, mismatched, half-lidded gaze locked with his own. An angry scar bisected his left brow and eye, It bled red like a nightmare brought to fruition. “I thought you’d catch on by now. You’re losing your touch, Sensei.”   
  
Minato’s breath caught in his throat. Tears gathered behind his eyes, blurring his vision. “Kakashi,” he choked on a sob. Alive, Kakashi was alive all this time.  “How? Why? What happened? _Where have you been_ __?_ ” _ __   
__   
The younger man cocked his head to the side, lips twisting into a wry smile. He was so close their noses bumped. “I guess I got lost on the road of life. Did you miss me?” 

The blond laughed wetly. “More than you could ever know.” 

Kakashi’s lips brushed across his own, the touch feather-light. Minato would’ve thought it a figment of his imagination if not for his former lover’s whispered challenge. “Prove it to me.” 

All it took was a slight head tilt to crush their mouths together. Lightning jolted up his spine. Kakashi’s hands dug into his hair, lips instantly parting beneath the seeking probe of his own. A nip of teeth and a stroke of tongue coaxed a guttural moan from Kakashi. 

The kiss was the kind that shattered realities and remade worlds. 

A silent promise and apology all rolled up into one. 

It was like they’d never been apart. 

By the time the bitter liquid hit Minato’s tongue, it was already too late. Kakashi was as quick and sly as he taught him to be. “K-Ka...Kashi.” Numbness flooded through Minato’s body, blackening his vision. He slumped forward, straight into Kakashi’s arms. 

“Shh, Minato. I promise everything will be okay. We just had to  _ temporarily dispose  _ of The Yellow Flash to carry out our plan.” Kakashi’s lips worked against his own as he laid bare his feverish confession. “Akatsuki will see the world burn and be reborn anew.”

A dark dread settled heavily in Minato’s stomach as the full extent of what he’d foolishly fallen head-first into fully hit him. No,  _ no!  _ This couldn’t be happening. Akatsuki was an extremist organization consisting of the most deadly criminals known to man. 

The Kakashi he loved would never involve himself with criminals like that.

_ The Kakashi he knew died six years ago. _

What held him now was nothing but a pale imitation of the man he once loved. And still, Kakashi cradled him like the most precious thing in the world and crooned dark, possessive endearments into his ear. “You’re mine, Minato. You were always meant to be mine.” 

_ This was supposed to be his day off.  _


End file.
